


River Ominous Ox Forest

by capitainpistol



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitainpistol/pseuds/capitainpistol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Machine gives Root four words when she passes by an abandoned building. So Root goes. (Season 3-ish, pre-IfThenElse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	River Ominous Ox Forest

“Thanks for this one,” she tells her ever-watchful guardian. 

Root leans against the wall where she can’t be seen for a little longer. Sameen is doing chin ups, her biceps contracting, her abs tightening, up and down she goes, without stopping. Whoever gets on her bad side today will pay for it tomorrow. 

All Root has is the element of surprise, and some time to kill before the next phase of her current mission, and she had to admit. The flicker of amusement in every sneer Sameen throws her way is worth it. 

“Working hard,” she says by way of greeting. Root takes her pleasures where she can, but she isn’t made to skulk. Besides, the Machine had set off the first alert. Fifteen minutes until the mission starts to become compromised. The last time she had a fifteen-minute marker involved a bomb, Paris and some unfortunate Russian art dealers. Root can annoy Sameen in less than five and avoid an international incident.

Sameen is on her hundredth chin up when Root’s words snap her out of her exercise reverie. She lets go of the bar and drops to her feet. Root is smiling, like she always is. Sameen felt little, if anything at all, but Root seemed to feel only amusement. You never knew with her, nevertheless Sameen had learned to count on it. The wider Root smiled, the deeper shit they were in, and right now Root had a hanger in her mouth.

“Did we get another number?” 

Root sways her head, taking her time with every step. Thank God for New York City. The sun was out, bright and probably beautiful, but the buildings to the East were much taller than the roof they were standing on and the shade they dropped kept Sameen from crossing over into disgusting territory. No, no, Sameen looked just about right, with a glint to her skin that made her look like she could go for another few hours. “Just hanging around. Looking to see what’s up.”

“Have fun on your own then.”

Sameen walks pass her when Root’s hand closes around her arm. In seconds, Sameen spins around, using the momentum to sucker punch Root, but Root ducks down. Sameen ends up in an uncomfortable sort of hug around herself. Root laughs, or chuckles, or something of that kind, it’s a low sound, all exhalation and delight. 

“Do you want to die today, Root?”

“Not particularly.” Root gives her space, but doesn’t let go. Her thumb caresses Sameen’s bicep where she still holds on. “Warm,” she says, grinning. 

Root’s grip is strong. A challenge sparkles in her dark eyes. Sameen thinks: anyone else. Anyone else and I’d be on the floor, on my back. 

Sameen jerks away, but it takes her so long Root marks it as a point. Challenge won, forfeit for Sameen. 

Not that Sameen kept score. “Your reflexes are good, but your form sucks ass.”

Root takes the criticism in stride. She likes being scolded. She likes to learn how to beat the shit out of people too. She loved it when separate goals aligned. “Then… why don’t you show me better.”

Point two.

Sameen could just leave Root here; leave this round for another time, but she never said no to a physical altercation. 

Sameen walks back to the bars, cracking the muscles on her neck as she turns back around to do more chin ups at the bars. Monkey bars. The roof used to be a playground for the school that used to be the building. A huge fence surrounds the ledges, reaching over ten feet, so no hope of accidentally kicking Root off. Sameen was long past wanting to kill Root, just that she had a nagging suspicion Root would bounce back if she was dropped from high enough.

“Something funny?” Root asks her.

Sameen wipes her towel over her sweaty face. “Not at all. I know you can handle an AK. How good are you without one? Show me what you got.” 

Root is almost bouncing as she removes her leather jacket, throws it to the side and fixes up her hair. Done up like that, Root’s long neck makes her seem taller, more lithe. Root’s smile widens as Sameen stares. “Like what you see.”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“How much blood there is at the end.”

They circle around each other. Root heals click and clack as she paces across from Sameen at a slower pace.

Sameen is not so annoyed any more. Plummeting Root into next Sunday was a recurring dream she’d had. Though some of those dreams had outcomes Sameen had to shake off in a cold shower the next morning.

“Promise to go easy on me?” Root asks in an exaggerated pout.

“Not a chance.”

In a flash, the pout is gone and normal psycho Root is back. “Good.”

Sameen had always had a begrudging respect for Root’s survival abilities. As a fighter, Root wasn’t half bad. She was all aggression, which could be useful in a fight. Angry people made mistakes. This was no doubt Root compensating for being so skinny. Sure, give her a gun (two guns) and Root was suddenly Jesse James in the old west. Hand to hand? Root had bits of all styles, but she stuck to street fighting. Punching and kicking at random and opportune moments. The method worked for her, to a point. It takes Sameen a while, but it happens. She finally has Root in a lock from behind, strands of her undone hair tickling Sameen’s neck and chest. Root smells fresh, clean.

“All talent, no skill.”

Root hands squeeze on Sameen's forearms, her dark fingernails digging into her skin. “Is that right?”

Sameen smiles. Root would never forget it. Sameen would never let her forget it.

“Now why don’t you see yourself out,” Sameen whispers in Root’s ear. 

“I’d rather be walked out. It’s the proper way to end a date.”

Root goes for another low tactic. She bites down on Sameen’s arm hard enough to make Sameen push her away.

Once again, Root takes Sameen’s offensive and makes it her own defense. Root has Sameen down and on her back, her hands pinned down to the sides, her ass hard against the concrete floor. Root’s legs planted firmly between Sameen’s. 

Sameen admits it. Her struggle is half assed. Root is lucky, that’s all. Besides, if she got the up on Root, they’d be on opposite positions, and she didn’t know if she wanted to be in that situation.

Root has the terrifying, jovial, edge of your seat shit eating grin and this time it’s color splashed with Sameen’s blood. Root is triumphant. “You didn’t say it had to be my blood.”

“Like I said. All talent, no skill.”

“And a little bit of luck and timing.”

“Root.”

“Yeah, Sam?’

“What are you doing?”

“What do you want me to do?”

A part of Sameen wants to know how far Root will go. Pretty far is the answer. Root bites her bottom lip as she grinds her sex against Sameen’s thigh. 

Point three, Sameen. 

Not one. A thousand points at least. 

Slow and tentative, Root tests the waters, waiting for Sameen to tell her to stop. Sameen had to bite down on her teeth not to let her pleasure show, but at one very specific, very perfect grind, Sameen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. . Two thousand points. Sameen knows Root won’t do a thing until she gives the ok. 

Root leans in, and just as her lips are about to touch Sameen’s, Sameen turns her head. 

Sameen quickly gets out from under Root, and the way she did it confirmed for Root that Sameen could have done so any time. In her ear, the Machine beeps the code for the ten-minute mark.

“New record,” Root says. She slumps back on the floor and watches an exasperated Sameen walk away. Being under her would have been lovely, but Sameen was not quite there yet. It was worth it, though. Sameen won’t even turn back to look at her.

“See you later, Sam.”

“Whatever, Root.”


End file.
